Perfect Porcelain Dolls
by Sweet Little Darling
Summary: Both Natasha and Tony have grown up to believe that they must be "perfect" in everything. Tony despite being a genius is haunted by past memories of Howard and he falls into a deep depression. Natasha tries to overcome her problems and keeping her past hidden by concentrating on losing unwanted weight. Warning: Depression, eating disorder, cutting, suicidal thoughts.C/N and T/P.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: The Problem To Even Bigger Problems

"**If you have called me failure, dumb, nervous, stupid, worthless can you really blame me if I have a low self esteem or if I hate you?"**

_Flashback:_

_A two year old Tony Stark slowly opened the door of his father's study. He knew he shouldn't be here, he knew it and yet he couldn't help it. This room had always held some sort of temptation for him. This room and also the person that inhabited it._

_His father._

_Howard Stark._

"_Anthony, what are you doing?" Maria Stark whispered as she pushed back her son from the open door. Tony gave his mother an annoyed glanced to which Maria had to smile about._

_Even at two her son had the ability to act even more mature than he really was._

"_I want to show Father something," he said as he showed her the 1000 piece puzzle that he had glue on an old carboard piece to keep it from falling. Tony had been taught at an early age not only to not enter his father's office but to not call him what traditional little boys called their fathers, not even "Daddy" or "Papa" or the simple "Dad" no, it was always the same, strict, isolated word: Father._

"_It says that only nine year old children and up and can build it!" he said as he showed his mother the puzzle of a farmhouse in the country. "But that's not true! Because I'm two years old and I could build it! I built it even faster than Rhodey in like ten minutes I was like a superhero! Like Captain America!" Tony babbled in his excited, two year old voice._

_Maria smiled as she kneeled down to face him. He was a small child with dark curly hair and large brown eyes. He looked entirely like Howard, but many people said that he had her personality._

_He was such a sweet and charming little boy. Always eager to help, even though he sometimes annoyed people with his intelligence. Howard wanted him to follow in his footsteps, but Maria wished that he wouldn't put too much pressure on him. He had tried to get him interested in science and math and inventions, but Tony didn't seemed all that interested which greatly disappointed him._

"_He's just a child," Maria had scolded him. "You just can't force him, to be whatever you want him to be. We have plenty of time before Tony grows up and finally figures out what he wants."_

"_What you don't seemed to get Maria," Howard had snapped at her. "That Tony is not an ordinary boy, he's not just a normal child that only cares about puppies and candy, he's intelligent. He has promise. He's a Stark. He's like me."_

"_Mommy?"_

_Tony's voice snapped Maria back to reality. "Yes, what is it sweetheart?"_

"_So can I?" he said impatiently._

"_Can you what, darling?"_

"_Can I show him?" he pointed again to the puzzle._

"_All right, I guess," she doubted that Howard would care very much. But she couldn't say no to Tony, he was just so excited and he was still just a baby, even though he was intelligent._

_She's hoped that Howard would play along at least._

"_Father!" Tony said excitedly as he pushed the wooden door open and went towards Howard, who like always was hunched back over a desk with a bunch of papers and books. "Look father, look!"_

"_What is it Tony?" Howard mumbled, not even bothering to look at him._

"_I made a puzzle!" he cried excitedly, desperately whishing that Howard would even turn around. "It's a 1000 piece puzzle and I did it really fast! And it's so pretty, I think it's in the country-and Mommy said that she'll take me to the toy store so I can buy another one and I'll teach her how to put one-"_

"_Godammit Tony!" Howard snarled as he slapped the puzzle from his excited hands. The puzzle fell across the room, broken and twisted and Tony had a small red bruise at the side of his forehead from when the puzzle had hit him when his father had slapped it away. "How many times do I have to tell you? I want you to do meaningful stuff, not these stupid little things that any idiot could do! Sometimes I just think you're just worthless."_

"_Howard!" Maria snarled as she grabbed Tony and cradled him in her arms. Tony was trying hard not to cry, but the tiny bruise on top of his right eyebrow was starting to swell. "Look what you've done to your son!"_

_Howard looked pained for a second when he saw the brusie, but it dissapered completely. "Maria, take him away and don't let him come here again unless it's really important."_

_Tony watched in dismay as his father turned around to continued his work. Then he looked at his broken puzzle across the room that seemed to look as a sad reminded of a broken family._

_End of Flashback_

"Good Morning,"

Tony Stark woke up rapidly when his girlfriend, Pepper Potts placed her warm, soft lips on his frozen one.

"Morning," Tony said, but he still felt dazed as he sat up. Then he remembered what today was.

He stood up from the bed and headed to the bathroom.

Pepper looked at him surpirse. "Tony? Why are you in such a hurry, it's Sunday, sweetie."

"I know," Tony said as he turned around, a sad smile playing on his face as he avoided her eyes. "I just have somewhere to be. You don't mind right?"

"No," Pepper said, but she sounded confuse. "Are you ok? You seem kind of out of it."

"Just peachy,"

He closed the bathroom door and stared at himself in the mirror. He could still see his father. How he had looked.

He splashed cold water on his face.

"Why did I remember that all of sudden?" he murmured to himself as he brushed his teeth. "I haven't thought about that incident in years."

Which wasn't a surprise, it wasn't exactly a warm, fuzzy family moment.

He quickly dressed up in a suit and went to the kitchen to pour himself some coffee, he briefly thought about having just vodka instead, but not even him thought it was good to drink that early.

"Where are you going handsome?" Pepper smirked as she came in wearing nothing but a white blouse.

"Just a quick errand," he said as he kissed her softly. "I'll be back soon."

Pepper looked at him perplexed. "You sure you're ok, Tony. . .you seem a bit odd this morning."

"Fit as a fiddle, Pep," he gave her his trademark grin. "You need to stop worrying so much."

He left the remodeled tower and headed down a few blocks towards the cemetery. Today was the anniversary of his parents's deaths. Normally, he wouldn't have even bother to go. But he forced himself to come at least once a year and for his mother's sake.

He could hardly believe that so many years had passed since their deaths, yet at the same time nothing had changed.

He was still miserable, lonely, and hated his life. Except for the few moments he shared with Pepper.

He placed the white flowers on the grave and kept staring at the names imprinted in the cold, gray headstone HOWARD AND MARIA STARK, FRIENDS, DAUGHTER, SON, AND PARENTS.

Parents were the last things they were,Tony thought bitterly, or in Howard's case anyway, though his mother hadn't done much to change the things between them or at least the way Howard treated him when he was alive.

As Tony continued to stare at the grave he couldn't help but drift back to those sad, bitter times when him and Howard were together, especially during the teenage years. There was a lot of shouting and blaming and name calling. Tony could still remember the many things that he had been called: fool, idiot, moron, stupid, worthless, reckless. . .the list went on.

He felt a deperate need to get really drunk all of a sudden. He stood up and took a taxi back to Stark Tower. He was surprise to find it empty when he got there with only a note from Pepper saying that she'd be back soon.

"What do we have here?" he said as he opened his famous wine cabinet and stared at the large bottles of vodka, wine, champagne, and tequila but strangely they didn't release the same relief they usually had. Sure he'd get drunk and forget the pain for a few hours, so what he'd just end up feeling worse again when the effect wore off.

No he needed something stronger, that would make the pain go away

A sick thought entered his head.

He went back to his bathroom and pulled out a razor. He had always heard how much cutting helped people release their anger and heal their pain. He's wondered if it actually worked.

"Here goes nothing," he settled the blade on his wrist as then slide it.

Cut.

He felt a stinging pain, but that was all. And it twistedly did make him feel a little better. He did it again.

Cut.

And slowly watched the blood fall from his wrist into the sink as if he were hypnotized, by it.

"Tony! I'm home!" Pepper called out.

Tony immediately froze in fear as he cleaned the sink and his wrist from the blood. He pulled down his shirt to hide his recently developed scars. "Coming, Pep!"

Yep, nothing had really changed.

He was still that pathetic, worthless creature that his father always said he was.

-End of Chapter One-

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Each chapter will start with a flashback from Tony or Natasha. Next up is Natasha! I know very little about Natasha and Tony's past so if you have any information or a website with information can you please tell me through a review or Personal Message (PM) ?

Thank you!


	2. A Not So Perfect Agent

Chapter Two: A Not So Perfect Agent

"**Everyone expects me to be perfect: wear the perfect clothes, speak the perfect way, be like a perfcet porceline doll, can't they see I'm just human?"**

_Flashback:_

"_Where are they taking us?" a five year old Natasha Romanoff dared herself asked one of the girls in front of her who looked no older than seven. There were two single file lines, all girls between the ages of five and twelve._

_All orphans._

_All silent._

_All destined to serve some other purpose other than just "orphans."_

_Natasha shivered as the bitter Russian wind hit her small, pale face. Her red curls stuck to her face as she started trembling in her old, raggedy black dress. Her feet were numb too with the cold and they were dirty._

_She desperately wished that she were back home-where it was warm, and soft, and just happy. Where she was with her parents snuggled with a blanket drinking hot chocolate. Her mother. . .her father. . .they were gone as well as her home filled with happy memories._

_Instead she was taken by a man named Ivan, who along with her had trapped other orphan girls for a single purpose. But Natasha wanted to know what that purpose was._

_The girl in front of her, with the tattered blong curls finally turn around. Her chubby face was dirty and she looked like she had been crying. "I don't know, but I'm scared, I'm really, really scared. . ."_

_Natasha's green eyes widened as she heard the snap of the whip and then she felt the sting of it a second later. She fell to the floor and so did the girl in front of her. The blond girl started crying even harder._

_The man spoke to her in Russian, something she barely understood because of how fast he was speaking. But she understand enough. No talking or you'll receive something much worse than a whipping._

_Natasha numbly stood up and didn't say another word for the rest of the way._

_The girls finally stopped moving and they were ushered into a cold, dark room where the same man who had brought her, Ivan stood in front of them. _

"_Welcome, my precious children, my little prodigies," he said with exaggerated glee. "This is the Red Room."_

_The girls stood motionless._

"_What is the Red Room you may ask you pretty little fools well, it's quite simple," he started walking towards them. "The Red Room is your new home and the Black Widow program your destiny. In the Red Room, in the Black Widow program, you my sweets will be invicible. You will speak all kinds of languages, you will learn to protect yourself from the evils of the world, in short you will be invincible, thanks to me." he said sounding rather cocky._

_Natasha noticed that some of the girls were starting to get pretty excited at the prospect of being "invincible."_

"_However not anyone can be part of the program," he said motioning to a few men to come forward. They stood in front of them now, with guns at their sides. "Some of you aren't just worth the sacrifice."_

_Guns went off._

_She felt something warm on her cheek. With trembling hands she trailed down a small finger and saw that it was a blood._

_She turned around slowly and saw that the line next to her, the ones made of the skinnier or more overweight girls, the plainer and ugly ones, and the sickest ones and the not so bright ones were all shot death. All claimed useless._

_The bodies were splattered all over the room, filled with blood._

_She raised her head and found Ivan straing at them with a proud look on his face. "Welcome to the Red Room," he said. "You ladies will have it all, I guarantee it. Why did I chosse you ladies? Why, you are the ones that seem the brightest, the prettiest, the one that have the most potential. Now you'll show me just how perfect you really are."_

_End of Flashback_

"You ok, Nat?" Clint Barton asked worried as he flashed a hand in front on Natasha who had been sitting in one of the cold, hard benches of SHIELD's Medical Wing, where their friend and fellow Hulk Bruce Banner worked, completely motionless.

"Of course I'm fine," Natasha rolled her green eyes. "Why do you say that?"

"Well you blank out there for a second," Clint said teasing her a bit. "I know how hospitals make you feel. You get all squirmy and nervous."

Natasha looked at him with a shock and appaled expression. "Barton! You are out of your mind! It's just a silly physical why will I be nervous?"

Before Clint could give her a sarcastic comment Bruce called out her name. "Natasha."

Natasha stood up, trying to maintain her features in control and to force her legs to stop shaking like jelly. She didn't know why she was so nervous. It was only a physical, with Bruce. The guy wouldn't harm a fly, at least if he could help it.

"Take off, your shoes, please Nat." he told her smiling.

"Huh? Why?" she demanded as if he asked her to run around the world barefoot.

"So I can weigh you," he said sounding confused as he set the scale. "Shoes off, please."

Natasha did as she was told, trying to keep her brain from going in full on crazy mode. She hated hospital, but another thing she hated even more was getting weighed. She wasn't that tall, so she had to be careful about her weight, especially since she had such a. . .womanly figure and she loved those Chips Ahoy! Cookies a little too much and maybe she shouldn't be eating a tub of Ben and Jerry's ice cream when she got home.

The scale jiggled a little when she stepped on it and she held her breath as Bruce moved the thingies around the scale balancing it.

He joted somethings on his clipboard and then told her. "Ok, Nat you can step down now."

She hastily put on her shoes.

"How bad was it?"

Bruce looked up. "Don't worry, you're still in the healthy range."

"I don't care about that!" she insisted. "How much did I gained?"

She said the word with the bitterness. It didn't matter how much physical exercise she did, she always managed to gained a pound on two, especially now since she was so closed to the holidays and she had been only on two mission since the Loki invasion and she had only gone on two missions since.

Bruce looked at his clipboard again. "Let see from your last physical you gained. . .eight pounds." he hesitated a bit when he saw that crushed look on her face. "Nat, you ok? That's not so bad, it's normal for people to gain and lose weight. Don't let it discourage you."

"I'm not, it's just," she blushed before she paused. She had almost told Bruce about her horrible experiences in the Red Room. Where no amount of imperfection was allowed and let just say there was no kind treatment for those girls who were overweight and couldn't move as freely. Natasha had always been a tad paranoid about that.

"Never mind," she said quickly. "Is it ok, if we finish this another time?"

"Sure," he appeared a little shock at her sudden change in attitude. "Are you sure you're ok, though?" She had that crazy look in her eyes.

"Fine," she said as she ran off. "Thanks, Bruce!"

She almost ran into Clint when she stormed out of the infirmary.

"Whoa, calm down," he told her with a little smile playing on his lips. Natasha held her breath when she felt his strong hands on her arms to steady her. "Where are you going in such a hurry."

"To my room," she told him.

Clint frowned. "You done already?"

"Um. . .kind of, I'm doing it by sections," she said as she managed to get out of his grip. "Well, see you later Clint!"

She raced up to her room and quickly turn on her brand new pink (ironic, not in a ha ha sort of way, but in a you're-a-moron-sort of way) STARK laptop. She typed into the search engine-Easy Popular New Diets.

But she was disappointed when nothing but idiotic ideas came out like eaiting a celery with brocooli shake every day (yuck, she would rather drink poiosn) avoid grain (that wasn't going to happen she loved bagels with cream cheese too much especially when Clint brought her some fresh out of the oven) or give up caffeine (as if! She would muder someone if she didn't have at least one cup of coffee)

She annoyingly went through the lists, some of them she was curious about, some of them were just ridiculous, but she knew that even if she did like one if would be impossible to follow if with her job ethic.

It would be almost impossible to find "a healthy pink grapefruit for breakfast" in the middle of Saudi Arabia.

Disgusted with the internet, she stood up and walked toward the bathroom connected to her room. She lifted up the toilet seat and stared at it with a nervous, yet giddy sensation in her stomach.

She knew what she was doing was bad, come on she wasn't stupid, but she didn't know what else to do. And the words that Bruce had told her, though nicely, didn't seem to leave her head. Especially if combine with the terror she still felt about not being perfect in every way even though she wasn't in the Red Room anymore, the feeling still hadn't completely left her.

"Come on Romanoff," she scolded herself. "It's not like you're commiting a crime. You're helping youself."

She jabbed quickly a finger down her throat, until she felt a familiar acid content in her throat and then it appeared on the toilet.

She stared at the contents of the toliet which contained her breakfast and lunch that hadn't fully digest yet.

She quickly pulled down the handle and then she went back to her room and sat on the bed. That wasn't so hard, that was almost to easy.

She may have just found the solution to all of her problems.

-End of Chapter Two-

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	3. First Time For Everything

Chapter Three-First Time For Everything

"**Behind every fake smile, there is a person dying inside."**

_Flashback:_

"_Finish," a four year old Tony put down his screwdriver and slightly tilted the robot's head. It wasn't a very big robot, about his size or maybe two or three inches bigger. It had a squared, round body, claw like hands, and a oval shaped face. It's big, round eyeballs were closed and it seemed to be sleeping._

_Well, not for long._

"_Time to wake up," Tony giggled as he pushed down the red switch._

_As soon as he did the robot opened his eyes slowly and stared at Tony with curiosity as if were a small animal._

"_You're name is Dummy!" Tony said excitedly. He could hardly believed that he had made his own robot. After countless failures and scolding from Howard, he had finally achieved success! "I'm Tony. I'm you creator. But you can call me Master." he said proudly._

_Dummy looked at him and slowly nodded. "Master Tony." the robot said._

"_Good! Good!" he said clapping his hands. He could barely hide his excitement. "Mom! Mom!"_

"_What is it Tony?" Maria asked alarmed as she came into the room. She dropped the magazine that she had been holding. "Tony , Tony, what-"_

"_I did it, Mommy!" he said as he embraced his mother. "I finally did it! I created my own robot. I named him Dummy and guess what he calls me, Master Tony! Where's Father I want to show him!"_

_He couldn't wait for his father to see him. To see that rare moment of pride in his eyes to finally hear him say the words. "I'm so proud of you." Words that he'd been waiting to hear._

"_I'm sorry, sweetie, Daddy's not here," Maria said apologetic. "He had to go to New York for a few weeks because they found clues about where Daddy's friend Captain American is-"_

_Stupid Captain America! Tony thought angrily, filled with jealousy. It's his fault that Daddy isn't here! Today was suppose to be the day that he would finally be proud of me!_

"_You're not upset are you, Tony?" Maria asked. "I'm sure Daddy will love it when he comes back. If you want I'll call him, right now."_

_His mother looked so guiltily at him, that he couldn't bear to see her like this. Tony forced a smile. "Sure, Mommy, I'll wait until Daddy comes home."_

_End of Flashback._

"Mr. Stark?"

A sharp pain in his rib cage.

"Ow," Tony grumbled as he raised his dazed gaze to the twenty or so men that were eyeballing him in one of the Conference rooms. "What?"

"Tony!" Pepper hissed. "Your argument?"

Tony blinked back confused. He had been too busy remembering his entirely fucked up childhood that he hadn't paid the slightest attention to the people around him. "What are you talking about?" he heard himself say.

"The argument," a business man said quite annoyed. "About what you intent to use the money you've earned this year to further your companies growth."

Money? Growth? Argument? What the hell were they talking about? Tony desperately needed to get out of here. To get some fresh air. Or better yet to feel a blade on his wrist.

He felt like crying. Not because of his past memory with Dummy, but because of the way that the businessmen and Pepper were looking at him right now. That familiar, exhausted look. Frustration, anger, but worst off all disappointment.

Something that Tony was all too familiar with.

"Um.. .please excuse me." he said as he dashed out of the room and into one of the Men's bathrooms on the second floor. He desperately needed to get rid of this emotional crap that he was feeling right now, before he started blubbering all over the place. He needed to stop feeling this-this pain.

He was tired of this. Of feeling sad. Of feeling worthless. Of feeling lonely.

Even though he knew he shouldn't feel like this. He wasn't lonely. Was he crazy? He had friends. Sort of. There was Pepper, Rhodey, Steve, Nat, Clint, Bruce, heck maybe even Fury.

But were they truly his friends or just his boss and teammates?

He honestly didn't know.

He locked himself in a bathroom stall and hastily took off his dark jacket. He pushed back his blue sleeved dress shirt and stared at the raw, angry, red marks on the inside of his wrist. They looked painful, but at the same time Tony felt a little proud of them. It proved to him that he could handle the pain and not have a human nervous breakdown like every other person. Even though he sometimes seemed to forget that he was human. A human with feelings.

Not a robot.

There were seven little cuts across his wrist. There were small cuts, because he didn't want Pep too see them, but he made it up by cutting them deeper. He had four on his other wrist.

"Where is it?" he said impatiently as he searched through his pocket in order to find something sharp, but he forgot he left his razor in his desk. He only had a pen.

"This will have to do," he jabbed the pen into his wrist.

One of the little cuts started bleeding and he jabbed it again. It didn't release his negative energy like a razor did but it was better than nothing.

He waited a few minutes and felt sweat fall from his forehead. "Calm down Stark," he said and he could swear that he felt his heart beating. "You're stronger than this."

He stayed in that position for a few minutes, before he finally relaxed. He got out and washed his hands and numbly went outside.

"What the hell was that Tony?" Pepper suddenly appeared furiously. "You made us look like fools out there!"

"I'm sorry, Pep," he whispered. He could barely stand to look at her.

Pepper suddenly grabbed his shoulder firmly. "Hey, are you ok?" she asked him gently. "You seem kind of out of it."

"Fit as a fiddle." he said forcing one of his boyish smiles. "Sorry about that. You know how I hate being stuck there."

"I know you do," she said not entirely convince. "Tony, I need you to tell me the truth. You've been acting different lately. I don't know how to explain it. Withdrawal. . .angry. . .sad. You've been so moody lately and I feel that we can't talk anymore. So I am going to ask you again are you ok?" she asked firmly.

"I already told you I'm fine," he said growling at her for the first time. "And if you don't believe me that's your damn problem." He jerked away and stormed away.

"Tony!" Pepper called out, but it was hopeless.

"Are you having trouble with Tony, Miss Potts?" a gentle voice said behind her. "Because I know a way I can get him to behave."

"Bruce!" Pepper exclaimed as she suddenly embraced Bruce.

Bruce looked surprise but also hugged her.

"Is something wrong between you and Tony?" Bruce asked seriously.

"I'm not even sure anymore," Pepper said sadly as she blurted out everything to Bruce since the first day that Tony had acted so strangely. Bruce was easy to talk to and a good listener. "He gets mad so easily and he's spaced out most of the time, like he's in another world. He's not the same Tony I fell in love with."

"Well, I doubt he's on drugs," Bruce said, being his closest friend. "I have a hard time figuring what else it could be."

"That makes two of us."

"If you want I can talk to him," Bruce offered. "Maybe he just needs to let out some steam. Things haven't been easy for him these past few weeks."

"Thanks, Bruce," Pepper offered gratefully. "Why don't you come over for dinner? Afterwards, I'll leave you alone to talk."

"That sounds perfect."

"Ok," Pepper said looking more relaxed. "See you at seven."

Tony locked himself in the bathroom once he reached the tower. He was angry at himself. Him and his stupidity. He felt bad that he had yell at Pepper, he really did, but she had made him feel so weak. As weak as a baby.

And Tony Stark didn't want to be weak.

He opened the drawer and pulled out a razor. He set it on top of his wrist and began cutting furiously. Tears of anger fell down his cheek and he continued cutting the inside of his wrist. The slashes became sharper every time he remembered another quality that he didn't like about himself.

Selfish.

Cut.

Obnoxious.

Cut.

Pretentious.

Cut.

"Tony?" he heard Bruce familiar voice.

Tony stopped cutting himself and looked on in horror at his wrists. He had a dozen more cuts in each arm and his arms were bleeding horribly as if someone had stabbed him. There was blood on the floor too. He put his arms under the faucet sink to wipe away the blood. He put on about twenty four band aids to stop himself from bleeding to death.

"Tony?" Pepper called. "Bruce wants to talk to you."

Tony straightened up and looked at himself in the mirror and managed a smile. He looked perfect as usual. He was wearing a nice suit. His eyes were shining. He had a cocky expression. Nobody would have guessed that he had spent the last half hour crying and being nervous wreck.

-End of Chapter Three-

Please, please review!


	4. Darling Little Fool

Chapter Four-Darling Little Fool

"**They want me to be a doll. A stupid porcelain doll. Someone they can control and put down, it doesn't matter if the doll has feelings."**

_Flashback:_

_Sweat is dripping down her forehead. She is breathing so hard that she feels like she's chocking. Her legs are trembling and her arms feel like they weigh two thousand tons. It's a miracle, it seems, that she can even stand up._

_She had been hard at training for over two hours._

_Kicking, punching, throwing pointy objects, firing a gun without a single break. Her red hair was sticking up, but she didn't care about petty appearances. Those days were long gone._

_The man in front of her, doesn't notice this and just says in Russian. "Leave now."_

_Natasha willingly goes back to her dormitory, something she wishes deeply that she didn't have to go to. It a small, cramped room with twenty other girls. All as lifeless and as weak as rag dolls. The room is so cold that Natasha is shivering by the time she reaches her small bed._

_Her bones ache so much that she wants to yell, but she doesn't. She just lays down._

_In front of her she recognizes the little girl from her first day here. The small girl with pale skin and blond hair the one that had received the whipping with her and who had been crying ever since._

_There were small, lashes on her back and there was blood leaking from them._

"_What's your name?" Natasha whispers, but doesn't mention the marks because she's shy and they both know what happened._

"_Ivanna." the blond girl whispered back. "You're Natasha right?"_

_Natasha nodded._

"_Everyone says nice things about you," Ivanna said sadly. "I heard Ivan saying that you have true potential." she breaks into a cough._

"_Really?" a small, guilty pleasure of happiness echoed in her small heart._

_The girl nodded and continued coughing until her cheeks turned flush. _

"_Are you sick?"_

_Ivanna nodded. "I've been wanting to ask you, Natasha. Can we. . .we be friends. Like best friends. I used to have a best friend back in the village. Before I came here. Will you be my best friend?"_

_Natasha nodded, surprise. "Yes, we will be best friends." she said excitedly. "And I'll help you train. So you don't get beaten up anymore."_

_Ivanna smiled at her. "I'm so glad to finally have a best friend."_

_The next morning Ivanna woke up dead. From Pneumonia, Natasha heard plus the injuries on her back._

_Natasha watched numbly and angrily as they took away the corpse of Ivanna, probably to dump it in a river._

_Natasha cried angry tears._

_That would be the last time she would ever let anyone get close to her._

_End of Flashback._

Natasha suddenly opened her green eyes with a knot in her stomach. She felt strange. Sick and sweaty. Not exactly like she had the flu, but like she did when she had a bad dream. It seemed that all of her worthless memories had decided to pay her a visit. How nice.

She pushed back her simple white covers and crawled to the bathroom.

She knelled down on the bathroom floor like she had done several times during the last two weeks and sticked a finger down her throat and watched the last remainder of her dinner wash out of her.

She looked back satisfied.

She hadn't been able to do that because Clint had come over last night and they had eaten dinner and drank various bottles of wine into the wee hours of the morning so she didn't have a chance to properly throw up. And she was finally glad she did.

Making herself throw up had become a fast obsession. She did it three times a day after breakfast, after lunch, and after dinner.

It was a sucky way to live especially since some days she felt so weak and so hungry, but it was worth it when she stepped on her new scale and saw that she had lost two pounds.

Besides it hadn't affected her training so she wasn't paying that much of a price.

She went back to her room and dressed in her training clothes feeling much better than she had a few minutes ago. She didn't feel complete until she threw up. It was like washing her teeth every morning, but instead of fresh white teeth she was receiving a brand new figure.

She dressed in a red tank top and her favorite black stretch work out pants and headed downstairs. She loved that she woke up early every morning, because there were not that many agents in sight. Occasionally she had the training room by herself.

She went into the training room, put some bandages around her wrist to protect them and started kicking and punching the bag in front of her. She was in high sprits today, it was turning out to be a good day, despite the bad memories and she was training, another things he loved.

Kick.

Punch.

Snap.

The bag landed on the ground and Natasha nearly squealed in happiness. That was the first time she had achieved that without damaging her foot. This throwing up was really paying off.

She heard someone clap and she suspiciously turned around. "Clint!"

Clint was standing there, smirking and clapping. "Very good, Miss Romanoff. Color me impress."

"What are you here?" she asked suddenly annoyed. She hated whenever someone interrupted her training time. "Shouldn't you be in the roof or something?"

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Easy there tiger. I come in peace."

"What do you want Clint?" he asked as she struggled to pick up the boxing bag. Hmm, she frowned it certainly was heavier that it look.

"Here, let me help you." Clint said as he helped her pick up the bag easily.

"Thanks," Natasha said tensely. "But I didn't need you help."

Clint ignored her. "You sure are dedicated if you train even on a day like this. When you should be celebrating I mean."

Natasha blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"You mean. . ." Clint took one look at her blank face and burst out laughing. "Oh, man you really are something Nat."

"Clint." Natasha warned. "Tell me? What the hell are you talking about. You have two seconds or be ready to be crawling in the floor in pain."

"Ok, ok relax." Clint said laughing wiping a tear from the corner of his eyes. "Nat, it's your birthday."

"My.. .My birthday?" her eyebrows furrowed. She felt stupid. Of course it was. It was May 18. Her birthday. All though considering what she had been through nobody could blame her that she wasn't much of a birthday gal. "It's my birthday."

"Of course it is," Clint said laughing, teasing her. Natasha was the only person, it seemed that he actually felt comfortable talking too. She was honest and straightforward. She didn't like to make a big deal out of things and best of all- she was dedicated.

"So come on take a shower and I'm taking you out to celebrate."

Natasha blushed. "Clint, I hate my birthday remember."

"So?" he said cheerfully. "I don't care. I'm taking you out to celebrate."

"You're are such an ass." she said, but she was smiling anyway.

"I know." Clint said. "Be ready in ten minutes."

Clint took her out to breakfast at a restaurant called Simply Sugar, much to her dismay.

Not that she hated Clint for doing this. It was thoughtful and she appreciate it. Simply Sugar, however was famous for it's sweet and sugary, not to mention high calorie brekafasses. Just being there made her stomach churn.

"I order something special for you," Clint said smiling in his naïve way. "I know you love chocolate so-"

He signaled to the waiter and he proudly set down in front of her a stack of double chocolate chip pancakes with whip cream.

Natasha grimace.

Clint grinned.

"Chocolate chip pancakes! You're favorite!"

"Gee, thanks Clint," Natasha said, sounding sincere as she pushed whipped cream off the top. "This is really, nice but I can't eat this."

"Why?" Clint's face fell. "Don't you like whip cream?"

"No, it's not that," she said looking down. "It just has too many calories. . .and you know I've been trying to lose weight. So no, I can't eat this. I'm sorry. I'm on a diet."

"But it's your birthday." he protested annoyed. "A diet? What diet? Natasha you look perfect! You're not fat!"

Natasha felt the tears coming. "I said I'm sorry." she said firmly. "But I can't risk it."

"Fine." he replied annoyed as he stood up. "Let's go."

Natasha followed.

"For the record," he murmured under his breath. "You don't need to be doing these silly stuff. I think you're perfect just the way you are. You don't need to change."

-End of Chapter Four-

Please review, I'm open to suggestions! Give me some feedback on what I can do better or what do you want to see more of.


	5. Keeping Secrets

Chapter Five: Keeping Secrets

"**Everyone has a different mask: a mask for being happy, one for being sad, one for being angry. . .I just want to get rid of the masks all together."**

_Flashback:_

_Tony Stark held the piece of paper tightly in his trembling hands. To others they must wonder why he was so excited about this little piece of paper. To him, however the answer was obvious. His acceptance to MIT. The letter was written in black computer printed letters with the same line he had seen various of time though his school years._

_Mr. Stark, Massachusetts Institute of Technology, gladly welcomes you to their class. . ._

_It should have been a happy, thrilling day for Tony. He was finally going to show Howard that he wasn't this mess that he thought he was. He was actually something._

"_MIT?" Howard scoffed. "That's the best you can do?"_

_Tony gripped his hands. "MIT is a good school, dad."_

"_For you maybe." he snorted. "I went Harvard and Yale and got my PhD at-"_

"_Princeton," Tony said annoyed. "I know that, but I didn't want to go to those schools. They are so uptight and stuffy."_

"_Nevertheless," Howard said as he threw the paper in the trash bin. "You might as well be working at McDonalds if the best you can do is MIT."_

_End of Flashback_

"Tony!"

Tony looked at himself in the mirror. He knew from Pepper's tone of voice that she was impatient. He also knew that she was seconds away from bargaining in and he still hadn't cleaned up his mess.

He had changed into a long black shirt that would cover his scars of course, and he had used some special eye medication that didn't make his eyes look to red. A few slaps to his cheeks so they grew pink and he looked perfectly healthy.

On the outside at least.

He put on his famous, boyish smile and went outside. "Bruce, my man!"

Bruce had been chatting happily with Pepper, balancing a glass of water on his upper thigh. Bruce looked up when Tony called his name.

"Hype, Tony nice to see you again," he gave the younger man a high five. "How long has it been? Three weeks?"

"Too long," Tony said happy to see Bruce. "Come on let's get you a real drink." He led him to the bar and poured his a glass of tequila.

"Kind of early isn't it?" Bruce said as he took the cup.

"It's never too early," Tony protested as he served himself his own glass and drowned the contents in one gulp.

Pepper cleared her throat. "I'll leave you two alone." she excused herself and headed out to the elevator.

Once Pepper left Bruce looked back at Tony. "Pep's worried about you, you know." he said bluntly.

Tony looked at him and he noticed that his eyebrows crinkled in annoyance. He grabbed the tequila bottle and poured some more into his cup. "Oh, really? What did she say? Tell me Bruce does she also talk about our love life? Oh, I know how about we get a blog so she can tell everyone whenever we have a squabble!" he dropped the tequila glass with such force that it shattered a little.

Bruce put a reassuring hand on his arm. "Tony, calm down. I didn't mean anything about it. I was just wondering."

"Well then don't wonder Banner," he said icily. "Better yet, don't ask."

"I'm just trying to help!"

"Well, don't," Tony spat. "I can take care of myself. I'm Iron Man."

Bruce sighed as if he were a little boy throwing a tantrum. "You may be Iron Man, Tony but you're still human," he said carefully. "You didn't have to keep things so hidden. There's Pepper. And of course I'm always here for you and Steve too. We're your friends, Tony." He insisted.

"I know you're my friends," he said tightly. "But I'm fine. I really am. Pepper is just overreacting like always."

Bruce still didn't look convinced. Tony had been acting weird for the past few days now. Normally he'd popped in his lab every week or at least sent him an annoying text message but it had been days since they had, had contact with him.

Bruce sighed. "Fine, I wont not push you. Even though you might need the pushing. But if you ever need to talk. ..you can always count on me buddy."

Tony patted his shoulder. "I know," he said feeling guilty about lying to Bruce in the first place. Did he know he was lying? Would he hulk out? "How about we meet for lunch in a few days, and you can finally tell me about those new gamma radiation reports."

"Sounds good," he said nodding. " I have an interesting report so far."

Tony smiled, by getting Bruce to talk about him he had narrowly avoided talking about him.

A few days later Tony and Pepper were in the living room looking comfortable and relaxed for the first time in days. Tony was sipping a cup of coffee while reading Bruce's gamma radiation report and Pepper was organizing and signing checks for his various bills.

"Um, Tony," she said confused as she looked at three papers info front of her. "What's with the amount of razors that you bought? You've bough three full boxes in less than a month. What gives? You don't even shave, at least not that much." she asked suspiciously.

"I bought some for Happy," he said lying and avoiding her face. "Oh, and for Rhodey too the last time we went shopping to Sam's Club together. And you know I like to keep an extra box of razors. I can't stand using the same blade twice."

At least part of that lie was true, he didn't like using the same razor twice when he cut himself. It just made him feel disgusted and pathetic by the sight of the blood caked on the razor blade. He prefer to used a different razor each time. Apparently he was going to pay the price now.

Pepper stared at him for a few minutes before she looked down again. "All rightly then."

"Where is it, where is it?" Tony rummaged annoyed through his bathroom drawer later that nigh. He was struggling to even stand up in the first place, he was only in his boxers and he was extremely drunk.

He had gone out to drink with Happy and Rhodey and all three of them have gotten a little too much drunk. He was just glad that Pep wasn't here tonight, she hated seeing him drunk. He nodded to solve his razor problem soon, Pepper may have believe his lie for now, but she would believe the fact that Tony bought razors for his friends every month, especially if at some point Pep asked him.

He remembered that Rhodey had given him a Swiss army knife with a blade when he turned twenty-three, now if he could only figure out where he put it-

"Aha!" Tony grabbed the Swiss army knife and kissed it. "Come to Papa."

He needed to get his feeling out, today hadn't gone at all better. Happy, Rodney, and him had spent the whole night drinking and complaining and bringing up old nights of MIT which reminded Tony of what a dick he had been before. Normally he would got to his lab, that usually cheered him up, but he was too drunk right now.

He settled himself on the bathroom door and opened his thighs. His wrists were covered in scratches, there was no room now. He needed to find himself a new cutting place.

"Sir," Jarvis's voice popped in unexpectedly. "I'm no doctor, but I fear sir, that what you're doing is not healthy. Hurting yourself on purpose, sir I think I should inform Miss Potts, or Mr. Banner about your condition-"

"Go to hell, Jarvis," he slurred as he settle the blade on his inner thigh. "And you better keep your fucking mouth close, shut down."

"As you wish, sir."

Tony breathed in relief as he began settling the blade across his thigh.

Cut.

Cut.

Cut.

He didn't know for how long he stayed there, Drunkenly cutting his inner thighs. He didn't seem to notice the blood, pouring from them, it wasn't new after all. He barely even felt the sting of the bladed. He only felt pleasure, happiness and nothing else.

-End of Chapter Five-


	6. Another Method

Chapter Six: Another Method

_Flashback:_

_They were behind her, she knew. But where exactly behind her? Natasha was ten years old, thin, and her dark red hair cut ugly around her pale face. She was the best in her group, Natasha knew that. The very best. That's what she had wanted, to be the very best, and being offered to train in group regimen II despite the fact that she was only ten was proof enough that she really was the best. She had the skills of a eighteen year old._

_She had a gun strapped to her upper tight, but she didn't want to use it unless it was necessary. Her "targets" were other girls, no more than seven, but as fast as lighting. All claimed "worthless" she promised herself she would not use the gun unless it was absolutely necessary._

_Something flashed in front of her._

_Panicked she reached to her thigh and pulled out her gun. With trembling hands, she put it forward, pushed down the trigger. One. Bang! Twice. Bang!_

_A little squeal of pain._

_Horrified Natasha pulled down the gun. She stared at the scene in front of her A little girl, no older than six with jet black hair laid limp on the floor, a pool of blood laid limply around her._

_Natasha yelped in horror as she dropped the gun. "Oh god," she whimpered. "Oh, god." What had she done?_

"_Very well, Natasha," a man pressed a beefy hand on her thin shoulder. "You are everything they say. Keep it up and you'll be a winner in no time."_

_I'm no winner, she thought miserably. I'm a murderer._

_End of Flashback._

Kick.

Punch.

Slam.

"You're getting better," Natasha allowed herself to praise Clint even though he was no better or worse than he was. She was just trying to make up for her birthday fiasco almost a week ago.

Clint didn't even acknowledge her compliment, even though one Natasha was a rare one.

"Front and center," Clint warned.

Natasha easily block it, with her wrist.

"Backward," Clint said quickly as he managed to kick her on the side.

Natasha cursed as her hands went to her sides. She raised her green eyes to keep her eyes focus on Clint, but she was surprise when she saw that Clint had disappeared and in his place were a bunch of tiny gold stars.

"You awake, Nat?"

Natasha pressed her lips together, she gripped her hands and turned them into fists. She mentally prepared herself to deal with someone that sounded familiarly like Bruce. An unhappy Bruce meant a growing disaster on the verge of collapsing inside.

"I'm awake," she said, though her voice sounding chalky and her throat was sore. She looked around and was surprised when she noticed that she was in the medical wing at SHIELD.

Natasha was in a thin bed, a long thin IV was hooked up to one of her arms and Bruce looked at her with a mix of concern and anger. Natasha gulped apparently he wasn't too happy with her.

"How-how long was I-"

"Were you passed out you mean?" he said as he flipped over a piece of paper. "Not much, only for a few hours-"

Natasha blew a sighed of relief, maybe he hadn't noticed.

"-But certainly enough time to do a few tests," his smirk disappear and instead it was filled with concern. "Nat, is there something. . . Is there something you want to tell me? Something I can help you with?"

Beats of sweat ran down Nat's forehead, but she managed to remain in control. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, your blood sugars been low, and there wasn't any food in your stomach," he said sternly. "Nat, you have to eat something for breakfast. Your training is hard enough on your body as it is. Clint was worried sick."

"Clint was here?" she shouted. Yep, now she was positive she was going to die of embarrassment.

"Of course what was he suppose to do?" Bruce frowned. "Leave you in the gym floor?"

"He didn't have to have a heart attack because of me!" she protested. "Where I he?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I had to send him outside, he was creating too much of a ruckus."

She sighed in relief.

"But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you off the hook for missing meals, Natasha," Bruce scolded her. "You're an agent and I prohibit you from going on any extreme diets."

She rolled her eyes. "No extreme diets, I just missed breakfast today."

"Well, don't," he scoffed, though he seemed less angry.

"So when can I get out of here?" she was eager to rip the IV out of her wrist.

"In an hour or two," he said in disapproval. "I would like to keep you overnight, but I have a feeling that you might protest. Am I right?"

Natasha chuckled. "Yep."

Two hours later Bruce let Natasha out and warned her not to skip any more meals and to eat a good dinner. She found Clint waiting for her back in her room. "Clint, what are you doing here?"

"Bruce told me you were getting out tonight," he shrugged as if it were no big deal. "I though I'd get you a nice dinner. Maybe we can eat together?" he said pointing to the two spaghetti plates and garlic bread.

She nodded. "Sure." She was starving as she still wasn't feeling a hundred percent well. She began scoffing down the food like she hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Whoa, calm down tiger," Clint asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Sorry," she said embarrassed. "I'm starving. I hate hospitals."

Clint laughed. "Look, Nat about how I been acting. .. I'm sorry. I've been acting like a jerk."

"Damn, straight," she scoffed into her garlic bread.

"Nat."

"Ok, I'm sorry too," she said. "You were trying to be nice and I was acting like a prissy bitch."

Clint pushed back his spaghetti place. "So I guess we're both to blame."

"I guess so."

He squirmed uncomfortably. "Nat, you're not. . .you're not going on any extreme diets are you?"

"Of course not," she scoffed. "What makes you say that?"

"It's just. . ." he blew a sigh of relief. "Never mind, I'm being stupid."

"Yeah, you are," she stood up. "Good night, Clint."

Natasha needed to find a way to keep losing weight, without throwing up or starving herself. She could still do that, obviously, but not too much anymore, otherwise she'll end up fainted in the middle of a mission.

No, she needed something easier, faster. Something that people wont recognize. Or be suspicious about.

So that's how she found herself at Kenny's pharmacy the next morning.

"Hello, miss can I help you?" as the clerk.

"Yeah, I'm looking for. . .do you sell diet pills?" she blurted out.

The clerk nodded. "A few miss. What kind are you looking for?"

"Which do you recommend?" she just wanted to buy them and get out.

"Well, I recommend Lady's Help, they are small dietician pills that not only help you lose weight but they-" the clerk rambled on sounding like a commercial.

"I'll take them," she interrupted. "How much?"

"$19.99."

She pulled out a crisp twenty dollar bill on the counter. "Here." she took the pills and put them in her beg. Then practically ran out the door.

-End of Chapter Six-

Thank you for your super sweet reviews!


	7. Home is Where Despair is

Chapter Seven-Home is Where Despair is

"**You never asked me if that was what I wanted to do. You just assumed, you never asked me."**

_Flashback:_

"_Mom?" Tony's voice rang through the long, empty corridors of his house. It was hard to see this house as his house since he'd been living at MIT for over a year, with Rhodey as his roommate and an armed security guard telling his comings and goings to Howard._

_Tony heard the distant sounds of his mother sobbing and the sting, awful smell of alcohol._

_He sighed. They were at it again. What was new?_

_He quickly walked to the second story of his house and opened his parents door. Maria was huddled in a corner of the room. Her head bent over her lap, hot tears on her face. Howard was on the bed sucking on a bottle like it was his life resource and moaning about Captain America._

"_Howard, please stop," Maria begged. "Please. . .you told me you would stop. . .I don't like it when you drink. . .Please Howie."_

_The begs sounded pathetic to even Tony's ears. Maria had been begging to Howard to stop drinking since the day that they got married, but had he stopped? Of course not._

"_Shut up Maria," Howard slurred barely looking over his bottle. "You're such a nuisance. . .I don't even know why I married you. . .I should have married the blond."_

"_Hey, cut it out," Tony snapped as he put a reassuring hand on his mother's shoulder. "Can't you see Mom's crying?"_

"_Of course I can," he snarled. "Though you were always a stupid boy. What the hell are you doing here?"_

"_I thought, I'd come and visit," he said defensively._

"_Well, don't," Howard snapped. "I don't want you here, go back to MIT, I can't even look at you right now.. .makes me angry. . .so pathetic." he closed his eyes and began snoring._

_Tony sighed impatiently as he stood up and without even speaking to his Mother he walked away, vowing he would never been a hopeless drunk._

_End of Flashback_

Warm, hot water trailed down Tony's dark hair and through his body. The water felt reassuing on his tense muscle and his eyes that seemed to be sore from all the crying and drinking he had been doing lately. Secretly, of course.

He traced his fingers dumbly across the faded, yet still reddish marks on his wrist. Each one seemed to be bigger than the next, the cut deeper, and it seemed to take slowly to heal. He mentally counted in his head. One, two, three, four, five, six on each wrist.

He looked back to his inner thighs where the cuts seemed worse and they stinged more. He preferred to cut his wrists, but his thighs made it harder for people to see and he had a feeling that Pepper, Bruce, even Jarvis were becoming more suspicious.

"One. . .Two. . .three. . .four. . .they don't look that bad right?" he said lying though his teeth. But even he though he was lying his thighs looked like they had been half mutilated by a butcher's knife.

He turned off the shower handle quickly and closed his eyes trying to hide the picture of his thighs and his wrists and what sure to be next his ankles. He didn't want to think about them anymore. He just wanted to have a quiet, evening with Pepper. It had been so long since they had a romantic evening all to themselves, and he wanted this one to be perfect.

"There you are," Pepper said as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She pulled back. "You're getting thinner, are you sure you've been eating?" her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Of course, Pep," he said as he kissed her forehead.

"Are you sure, because you sure are thinner, Anthony Stark if I find out that-"

"Pep," Tony interrupted as he grasped her hand. "You're ruining the moment."

Pepper smirked. "You're right."

Tony kissed her and wrapped his arms tightly around her, suddenly remembering how much he loved her. How he loved her small, tough body, her long strawberry blond hair, that her lips always smelled like cherry chapstick.

Pepper removed her nightgown.

Tony removed his towel around his waist and slip on a condom and within minutes they were lying on his bed. After making love, Pepper, gasping for breath placed a hand on Tony's cheek. "I love you."

Tony stiffen. "Don't."

"Don't what?

"Don't say that you love me." he said harshly.

Pepper stood up. "But I say I love you a lot of times, what-" her green eyes caught the scars on his wrist that he had been unsuccessfully trying to hide behind a pillowcase. "Tony, what the hell is that?" she snatched his wrist and began inspecting it. Her eyes grew larger and larger as she saw each scar. "Oh, my god, we need to get a doctor. Oh Bruce I have him on speed dial-"

"No, doctors!" Tony said rather harshly as he tightened his grip on Pepper's hand.

"Ow, Tony, you're, you're hurting me," Pepper bit her lip.

Tony let go. "I'm sorry, Pep, I'm. . ." He didn't know what to say.

"Tony, what the hell happened to you wrist, and I want the truth this time, please." she said trembling.

"It was nothing," he fibbed. "I was adding a prototype to the Iron Man suit and while I was putting it on.. .there was a little accident." He felt his cheeks burn.

Pepper looked instantly relieved. "You should be more careful Tony," she inspected the cuts. "You need some ointment at least, let me get some from my purse."

Tony blew a sigh on relief. "Thank, Pep."

"No problem," she stopped and hesitated at the door. "You're not hiding anything from me, are you? You know you can trust me, right honey?"

"Of course I can, Pep," he said. "You're the first person, I'd tell anything too."

-End of Chapter Seven-

Please, please review, really appreciated!


	8. Skeletons in the Closet

Chapter Eight-Skeletons in the Closet and in the Bathroom

"**I may be a 'disappointment' to you, but I'm happy for who I am."**

_Flashback:_

_This was her first mission. It was suppose to be perfect. There wasn't room for any mistakes. She is only twelve, but better than most of the fifteen and sixteen year old combine._

_The mission is quiet simple: steal the two prize paintings and most of all avoid getting caught. You get caught you die._

_Natasha can't see anything, her eyes are hidden by a blindfold, her hands are tied to the back of her chair and her cheek is slightly bleeding from when one of the guys punched her._

_She hears someone talk._

_Their feet moving._

_And suddenly she knows she is in the clear. She bends hers toes and jumps in the air, swinging the back part of her chair in the man's direction, towards the head. Thwack! He's unconscious._

_After a brief moment Natasha loses the blindfold, she managed to open the lock using only her toes and decided not to kill the man._

_She rushes towards the end of the hall, light on her feet. There they are, two prized billions of dollars painting._

_Huffing and without making a sound she quickly snatches the paintings and jumps out of a nearby window where someone is already waiting for her._

_She hears their congratulations, but Natasha's heart is filled with guilt._

_End of Flashback._

Natasha vomits into the porcelain toilet that she has been constantly seeing. She can almost register every factor know. The cold, ice water, the crack near the toilet seat, a smudge of red lipstick.

The sight is familiar to her because she's been there since 8AM, she had taken the pills she had stupidly bought at the pharmacy and within minutes she had been getting sick. She had decided to save them for "special" occasions.

Last night was the SHIELD benefit dinner and she had pigged out on lobster, carrot cake, and bread. She felt like a total pig.

So in the morning, she swallowed the two little pills like they were candy and had been throwing up ever since. It was almost noon.

At first she had been throwing out what little food she had, but now she was basically throwing up water.

"Oh, God please let it be over," she whimpered as she rested her head slightly on the bathroom floor. When she was positive that she wasn't going to throw up anymore with staggering knees she attempted to stand up.

She positioned over the sink and stared coldly at her image in the mirror.

If anyone saw Natasha they would have guessed that she had been lost in the desert. Her skin was so pale, that it was almost see through. Her green eyes, once so pretty looked as dull as pennies, her cheeks were so sunken in that she could easily trace her cheekbones and jaw line.

But Natasha didn't see that.

She only saw imperfection.

Round, chubby cheeks, a too pink face, and laughing green eyes that seemed to say: loser! Loser! Big fat loser!

It was disgusting.

Just seeing herself made Natasha throw up again. She kneeled down quickly an threw her contents into the toilet.

"Nat?"

_Oh, Clint! _She recognize that horrified voice anywhere, the last time she had heard it they had been in the Middle East and Clint had been sure she had been paralyzed.

Natasha was annoyed to note that it was filled with pity also. Pity, she didn't want.

"Go away!" she snarls.

Clint is standing at the bathroom door looking both horrified and annoyed. He folds both arms across his chest stubbornly. "I don't think so."

"Really, Clint go away!" she barks hoping to scare him away, but he doesn't budge. Instead Clint comes closers. "Shit, Nat what are you doing to yourself?"

"Nothing," she instead pathetically. "Why wont you leave me alone?"

"Because I care about you Natasha, that's why!" Clint said for the first time sounding beyond furious. "And I want to know what's going on, I'm tired of being kept in the dark."

Natasha stayed silent.

Clint cursed. "Come on," he pulled her up.

"Where are we going?" she says dazed.

"Where do you think, the hospital!"

"No," she pulls back weakly. "Clint, you can't. . .I can't go back there. . " Because if she did Bruce will find out everything the diets, the pills, the throwing up. He will force her to eat. . .her rotten life made even worse. "Clint, _please." _she begged nearly crying. "I don't want to go."

"But, Nat," Clint looks uneasily and he fears that she will cry soon to get her way. "Why not?"

And then Natasha finally breaks down and cries.

-End of Chapter Eight-

Thank you so much for your reviews!


	9. Black Heart, Black Soul

Chapter Nine-Black Heart, Black Soul

"**A person who tries or commits suicide doesn't really want to die, they just don't know how else to stop the pain."**

_Flashback:_

"_Come on, just one drink?" his other roommate at MIT, Paul tauntly puts a bottle of beer under sixteen year old Tony's nose, knowing Tony is too much of a scaredy cat to actually go through it._

"_Don't do it Tony," Rhodey whispers into his ear. "This guy is drunk, he doesn't know what he's talking bout."_

_Tony does his best to ignore the teasing around him, but it's hard. He can hear everyone teasing him, calling him baby and wimp and how he doesn't belong in a school like this he should just go back to preschool._

_Finally the teasing is too much. "Give me that," he takes away the bottle of beer._

_Paul smirks._

_James groans. "Tony," but doesn't actually do anything to stop it._

_The beer burns his throat, but he keeps drinking like there's no tomorrow. "Done," he says as he gives Paul back the bottle._

_Paul just nods. He flicks a cigarette. "You want?"_

_Tony nods, but he's trembling inside. "Sure."_

_By then Rhodey has left disgusted._

_After that Tony can hardly remember his first MIT party, he only remember some parts of it, smoking, kissing, drinking, dancing and then the same cycle. He wakes up the next morning, with a headache and with a pile of vomit._

_Though he is satisfied that he managed to block his troubles and worries and the teasing and the disapproving looks for a while. He glance at the empty bottle of beer in front of him, wondering how much would he have to pay so someone could buy some for him._

_-End of Flashback-_

"Tony, honey? Wake up sweetheart," someone is shaking him awake. A pair of feminine hands.

Tony moans as he stretches his muscles and sits up sleepily. He hopes to find Pepper, holding a breakfast tray. "Hey, Pep-what's he doing here?" he said nastily.

Pepper shot Bruce an apologetic look.

Pepper wasn't there with breakfast. She was with Bruce. Who was holding his medical bag. To be fair Bruce didn't even look like he wanted to be here.

"What is he doing here Pep?" he replied stubbornly. "I didn't ask you to help me."

Pepper sighed. "Tony, you need medical assistance- on your cuts on your wrist. I just didn't want you to get infected."

"They are not infected," Tony snarled. "I cleaned them up myself."

"Tony, you can't even find a band aid when I ask you to." Pepper snorted.

"Tony," Bruce cleared his throat. "If I may, interrupt, Pepper is right, I just want to see your wounds. Clean them up a bit." He honestly didn't know why he was so upset.

"Fine." Tony said after a moment. "But hurry up."

Immediately Bruce went to work. He easily pulled up the sleeve of Tony's t shirt. His eyes winded a little when he saw the slashes, but he didn't say anything. He rubbed rubbing alcohol using a cotton ball to clean it up and then put some kind of lotion.

Tony tried to hide his wince of pain from the alcohol, but his skin was dry and rough.

"There you go," Bruce finally said as he put away his tools. "But I've got to say, I'm surprise."

Tony flinched. "Why do you say that?"

"It's just. . .all of the cuts seemed to have been done several times, and with a knife or something," he looked puzzled. "You don't even normally use a knife."

Tony blushed. "I wanted to try something new," he replied. "Is that a crime?"

Bruce gaped at him, but didn't say anything. He just nodded to Pepper and said goodbye to Tony.

Pepper kissed him on the cheek, but Tony pulled away. "That wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Why did you even call him?" Tony said annoyed. "I didn't ask you to call him."

Pepper looked taken back. "I was worried about you. . .I didn't want you to get sick or something."

"That's the thing, Pep," Tony said as he got up and went towards the bathroom. "I'm tired of people worrying about me. I'm tired of being a burden."

"You're not a burden," Pepper corrected as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Tony, please talk to me. . .maybe I can help."

Tony pushed her away. "Just leave me alone."

He managed to close the door in Pepper's face before she could get in. Tony sank down on the floor and buried his face between his knees trying to block out the yelling and the pleading as Pepper pounded the door.

He just wanted everything to stop.

He didn't want to feel pain anymore.

He just wished everything could be over.

His eyes landed on the Swiss Army knife he had been using so much that it was like a long time friend. He stood up slowly and stood facing the bathroom mirror. He knew what he needed to do.

PERFECT PORCELAIN DOLLS

"Thank you so much for coming again, Bruce," Pepper thanked Bruce as she and the doctor entered the elevator and made their way up to the living room. It was almost evening and Pepper could see the stars and the moon showing through the window. "I hate to bother you, but I feel that Tony needs to talk to someone and Thor is in Asgard, Clint is dealing with Natasha, and I couldn't find Steve anywhere. I really appreciate it."

" I already told you, it's no problem Pepper," Bruce said smiling. "Tony's my friend-and patient. I'd do anything to help him."

"Well good," Pepper sighed. "Because I can't seem to get through him lately."

"What do you mean?"

"He's been withdraw and moody, even more than usual. He just seems strange," Pepper's lower lip tremble. "And I can't seem to get through him. It's like he doesn't trust me."

"I'll do whatever I can Pep," Bruce said gently. "Where is he?"

"Locked up in the bathroom, he's been there since a little after noon."

Bruce nodded as he knocked on the door. "Tony?"

No response.

"Tony? Buddy, it's Bruce I want to talk to you." he called again.

No response.

Bruce tried to jerked the door open. "Tony, you worrying Pepper. Please can't we talk. Tony?" he turned frustrated. "Do you have key or something?"

Minutes later, Pepper returned with a key. He put it in the keyhole and slowly turned. "Ok, we are coming in. You better not be shitting us, Tony-"

Pepper screamed.

Bruce froze. "Oh my God."

Tony was on the bathroom floor , half naked with his wrists, hips, and inner thighs covered in blood and what seemed to be half slashes. His brown eyes were slightly open as he laid on the cold concrete floor. His entire body seem to be spitting out blood and the Swiss Army knife lay next to him like a laughing tool.

Bruce rushed to him and immediately checked for a pulse. "Gezzus, Tony, what were you trying to do? Kill yourself?" A small doubt in Bruce's head seemed to say the obvious answer-yes! Yes! He relaxed when he felt a pulse. "He has a pulse-barely, Pepper call an ambulance! Call 911! We need to take him to the hospital!"

-End of Chapter Nine-

Thanks for your reviews!


	10. Breaking Free

Chapter Ten-Breaking Free

"**Everyone deserves a chance to be happy. And sometimes, you have to break away from the people who have been poisoning you all a long."**

_Flashback:_

_BOLIVIA_

_Ten seconds, nine, eight, something was ticking inside Natasha to hurry the fuck up. She was typing several passwords into the tiny computer hoping that one of them will be the password to unlock the storage full of weapons._

_These weapons were rare and illegal._

_Bolivia was the only place that had them and it was up to Natasha to steal them._

_Beep._

"_Bingo," Natasha opened the door and impatiently began putting guns into the thin, metal suitcase. She froze when she heard someone behind her._

"_Miss, put the weapons down and nobody gets hurt." a man said behind her._

_There were two of them. Fools, fools, fools!_

_Natasha slowly stopped unpacking. She turned around in mock surrender once the other agent lowered their guns Natasha reached to her hip and fired against the agents. In three swipes they were dead._

_Natasha picked up the heavy suitcase and immediately fled the scene._

"_We lost track director," Clint said into the walkie talkie. "Two casualties."_

_He heard Fury cursed. "That's it. That's the third time in less than a year and the local police still can't catch her."_

"_What do you want to do, Director?" Clint sked._

"_Get ready, Barton," Fury barked. "The so called Black Widow is officially under our radar."_

_End of flashback._

"Nat, please," Clint put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Please, you can talk to me."

"I can't Clint," Natasha insisted. "I can't."

"Nat, please," Clint said rather forcefully. "We've been partners for a decade, friends, you can tell me. I wont judge you, I've seen you at your worse. Please, can't you trust me, just a little?"

Natasha nodded slowly. "I have problems. . .eating disorders. . .like Anorexia and what's the other-"

"Bulimia." Clint finished for her as he pushed back a piece of red hair. "I had a feeling."

"You knew?" Natasha squealed.

"I had my suspicions," Clint corrected her. "I saw you losing so much weight and you stopped eating so much of your favorite things."

"Like fried Twinkies," Natasha said making a small joke.

"Like Twinkies," Clint smiled as he touched her thin cheeks. "I'm glad you finally admitted it, Nat. You were scaring me for a seconds."

"I don't know how I let it go this far," Natasha whimpered. "I just wanted to be a little thin. . .I just wanted to change something. . .I just wanted to be number one." she whimpered.

"Shh, shh," Clint shushed as he pressed her head against his chest. He felt so protective of her. "Don't torture yourself like that, Nat. The important thing is you admitted it. We'll solve this together. I wont let you suffer alone."

Natasha raised her head. "Really Clint?"

"Really. Come one." he pulled her up.

"Where are we going to the hospital."

"No!" Natasha cried as she tried to pull away, but Clint didn't let go. "Clint, I don't want to go. I hate hospitals!"

"Tasha, please," Clint insisted. "You need medical help. Bruce will be there. Bruce is your friend. You need to go to the hospital and then everything will be over."

"Truly Clint?"

"Truly."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise." he said again. "Do you think you can eat something?"

Natasha squirmed. "I can try."

"Good girl," Clint handed her a cup of Jell-O. "Try this."

With trembling hands Natasha opened the pack of Jell-O. She took a spoonful and almost immediately her stomach began to rebel and within seconds she was hunched over the toilet.

"Nat Nat, are you ok?" Clint was by her side, helping her up.

"I'm fine." she asked dazed. "What happened?"

"Your stomach's gone too much without food," Clint said with his small knowledge of medical knowledge. "I think it sort forgot what it's like to eat."

"Does this mean-"

"It doesn't mean anything." Clint insisted trying to hide the panic in his voice. "It just means recuperation will take a little longer. We'll teach your stomach how to accept food again. Will you go to the hospital willingly tomorrow?"

Natasha nodded quickly.

"Good," Clint said exhausted. "Let's get you to bed."

Natasha let Clint tucked her in. Tomorrow everything will be over. Tomorrow she will go to the hospital. Tonight, for the first time in many night she will be able to sleep peacefully.

-End of Chapter Ten-

Thank you so much for your reviews!


	11. Nightmares

Chapter Eleven- Nightmares

"**Bruises and marks disappear from a body, but cruel words scar you and they are hard to forget and sometimes they never truly leaves us."**

_Flashback:_

"_Mr. Stark?"_

_Seventeen year old Tony raised his head towards the doctor. His hands feel numb because he had been gripping them for over two hours. He feel numb and he can hardly believe he's at Malibu Hospital at two in the morning._

_He could hardly remember what happened-Rhodey shaking him awake, him yelling at him that his parents were in the hospital . . .car accident. . .Malibu Hospital._

"_Yes?" he squeaked his voice sounding like a twelve year old boy. He felt like a twelve year old boy. _

"_I'm Dr. Wilden." the doctor said calmly as he shook his hand. "I am sorry to say that your parent Mr. Howard Stark and Mrs. Maria Stark have passed away. There was nothing we could do."_

"_Passed away?" he murmured. "They are dead?"_

_Dr. Wilden nodded. "Their injuries were too severe, there was nothing we could do."_

"_There must have been something," Tony said desperately. "They can't be dead!" He had expected a few cuts and bruises, maybe a broken leg, but not his actual parents dead. "How much money do you want? I have money I can pay." he said sounding hysterical._

"_I am sorry for your loss, Mr. Stark," Dr. Wilden said gently. "But there really is nothing we can do. Both your parents are dead."_

_The word rang in Tony's head._

_Dead._

_Dead._

_Dead._

_Dead! Dead! Dead!_

_End of Flashback._

Tony woke up screaming. It wasn't from the pain, which was excuse enough. It was from the nightmare, but the reality was it wasn't a nightmare, it was the truth. That had been his own experience.

He had been alone that night feeling desperate and guilty and feeling even worse, when they told him that both of his parents were dead and he was the heir to their vast fortune.

He would have given his wealth in the blink of an eye if his parents were brought back to life. Sure him and Howard weren't buddy-buddy. But he would try, this time Tony would really try to become his friend and a better son.

"Hold him back!" someone barked.

Tony felt strong arms on his shoulders, arms, and legs pushing him back. He felt the sting as someone pushed him down on the bed. Why were these people so damn pushy? Tony just wanted to get a drink of water.

"Leave me alone!" he tried to shout, but nobody seemed to hear him.

"God, they are killing him." Pepper?

"No," Bruce? "They are helping him."

And then Tony disappeared again into the darkness.

When Tony woke up again everything was less chaotic than he remembered and he felt calm. He was already sitting up on the bed, but when he tried to move his arms and pushed himself off the bed he realized that they had been tied firmly to the bed.

Panicked, he looked around and saw a dull hospital room. "Bruce," he chocked out. "Help."

A young, thin nurse appeared. "Mr. Stark?"

"Get me out!" he ordered at the little nurse. "Get me out!"

The nurse pursed her lips. "I'm afraid I can't do that Mr. Stark."

"What am I a prisoner?" he demanded.

"You're not a prisoner, Tony," Bruce said firmly as he entered the room. "But you are a patient that tried to kill himself."

Tony blushed despite himself.

Bruce turned to the nurse. "Thank you, I wish to talk to Tony, privately please."

Once the nurse left Bruce went towards Tony. He checked his IV. "You seem to be doing all right? How about some painkillers?"

Tony flinched. "No thanks," he stared at his bandaged wrists and arms. "Why am I here?"

Bruce frowned. " You tried to kill yourself," he showed him the bloody blade. "Don't tell me you don't remember. There were cuts on your arms, legs, stomach, and inner thighs. It took hours to patch you up, I wouldn't be surprise if you got an infection."

"I remember," was all Tony said as he stared at the bloody blade horrified, had he'd really done that?

"The question is, why?" Bruce said impatiently. "Why did you try to kill yourself Tony?"

Tony opened his mouth and closed it again. "It's just. . .my childhood sucked. . .I was very unhappy." was all he said.

"And you couldn't have talked it out?" Bruce said furiously. "We're your friends Tony. You have me, you have Pepper, and Rhodey, and Steve, and Thor, and Clint you're surrounded by people who care about you. Why couldn't you talk to them?"

"I just couldn't Bruce," he snapped. He felt so pathetic right now, he could only imagine how he would feel if he told anyone about his problems. They would probably send him to a mental institution. "Can we just leave it like that?"

Bruce pressed his lips together and he looked like he wanted to keep yelling at him. "Fine. For now. But you are going to talk about it Tony, if not with me, then with someone else."

"Don't couldn't on it," he snorted and then he slowly fell asleep.

When he woke up again it was midnight and Bruce was gone. Instead, Steve was here.

He was sitting stiffly and well dressed like he was going to church. He seemed to flinch a little when he woke up. "Oh, you're awake?"

"What's wrong Cap?" he asked sarcastically. "Are you afraid of me?"

"No," Steve protested. "I'm scared _for _you."

Tony paused for a moment, he briefly thought if Steve was joking or being sarcastic, but his blue eyes showed that he was dead serious. "Why are you? You don't even _like_ me."

"That's not true," Steve said quickly.

Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, I think you're annoying at times but that doesn't mean I want you dead," Steve clarified with baby blue eyes filled with pity. "Tony, everyone was so worried about you and Pepper was crying non stop. Come on at least pretended that you care a little about your life."

Tony gulped. Pep. How could he have forgotten about Pepper. He looked at Steve's eyes full of sincerity, Bruce's had been so too. Maybe he made a mistake. "I'm sorry." he blurted out.

Steve relaxed a little. "Look, Stark I don't know why you did it and I'm not going to pry. I just want to let you know that if you ever want to talk, I'll be here for you."

"Don't get all sentimental on me," he relaxed. "But thank you Rogers."

-End of Chapter Eleven-


	12. Bittersweet

Chapter Twelve-Bittersweet

"**I don't want to wake up five years from now hating my life."**

_Flashback:_

_This is business, not pleasure, Clint smirks to himself, but he couldn't help but gaze at the smallish, looking girl about one or two years younger than him with bright red hair and sad green eyes._

_She kept looking back and forth, she obviously sense something, but she didn't know where to look. That's why Clint preferred to do his attacks from up._

_He pulled his bow and arrow and was prepared to shoot the girl, but he hesitated. One shot and the girl would be nearly dead, two shots as she would seriously would be dead._

_He just found it hard to believe that this little Russian spy was causing so much trouble for SHIELD and had murdered over fifty people. She didn't even look all evil, in fact she looked a little loss._

_Clint lowered his bow. There was something definitely wrong with this picture._

"_Hey!" he called back as he lowered himself into the ground._

_Natasha pulled out her gun._

"_Whoa," Clint raised his hands in the air. "I come in peace. Can we talk?"_

"_I don't want to talk," Natasha replied furiously but sort of let the gun drop low. "Why aren't you afraid of me?"_

"_Am I suppose to be afraid of you?" he asked amused._

"_Many people are," she lowered her gun completely. "And that should apply to the people who are trying to kill me. I saw you on the roof."_

"_Did you?" Damn, she had a good eye. "I'm Clint Barton."_

_Natasha pursed her lips. "I'm Natasha Romanoff. So. . .Barton what brings you to Budapest, aside from killing me that is."_

_Clint raised his gaze at her. "I want to talk to you about joining SHIELD."_

_End of Flashback._

Natasha knew right away that she wasn't in her own bed. The bed felt too cold, she felt trapped and uncomfortable. She raised her gaze slightly up and saw immediately that an IV was stuck to her wrist. Someone had changed her out of her clothes and into the hospital nightgown.

In the nightgown it was so much easier to see how thin she had truly become. Her legs felt weak and they were skinny. Her hip bone was easily peeking out, and her arms were skeleton like.

She wondered why she had never notice before.

"You're awake," Clint said from where he was sitting.

"Did I pass out?" Natasha panicked-gasped. "Was I dying? Is that why you brought me to the hospital?"

"No," Clint was quick to reassure her. "Nothing that horrible, it's only been a few hours. It's going to be dawn in a few more hours." He walked towards the edge of her bed and pushed away her hand from pulling the IV.

"Then why am I here?" she said flatly.

"Because," Clint turned around to blush. "I didn't know if you were going to change your mind." He said awkwardly.

"Change my mind?"

"You know about coming to the hospital," Clint looked at her apologetic. "I was afraid that you were going to change your mind in the morning. . .Nat, I was feeling too powerless, I felt that I needed to do something to help you."

"And you though locking me in the hospital was the right idea?" she heard herself snap. "That was low, Clint, really low."

"I know," he squeezed her hand and was surprise when Natasha didn't pull back. In fact she seemed to hold it even tighter. "But I didn't know what to do, I'm sorry Natasha. We can leave if you-"

"No," she stopped him, her voice quivering. She focus her eyes on her disgusting skeleton like body. "I want to stay. I want to get better. I want to stop feeling like a failure. Even if it's the hardest thing I have to do."

-End of Chapter Twelve-


	13. Help

Chapter Thirteen-Help

"**Just because you were Homecoming Queen, Class President, a skilled assassin or a scientific genius doesn't mean your kid will be just like you-and no, you can't force them to be."**

_Flashback:_

"_Tony, you need to get dressed," Rhodey said tiredly as he looked at the pile of t-shirts, suits, and shoes spilled all over the bedroom. "Tony." he said again. "Come on, man we don't want to be late, it's your own parents funeral."_

"_I'm not going," Tony replied tonelessly. He wouldn't even met Rhodey's eyes. He was sprawled across the bed and looking at the wall blankly._

"_Come on, don't be stupid," he tried to pull him forward. "Anthony, everyone is here and they will expect to see you soon."_

"_Can't you understand, I'm not going for chrisake!" he snapped. "Just leave me alone."_

_End of Flashback_

"Tony, Tony honey can you hear me," Pepper whispered as she shook his awake. "Tony, it's me darling."

"Pepper," he open his eyes and was surprised that he was still attached to the bed and that his whole body stung as if they just giving him a bath in hand sanitizer.

"They just rewrapped your bandages," Pepper whispered. "That's why they sting so much." Her voice was sad and her eyes were full of sorrow. He couldn't even look at her, he felt so disgusted with himself. "Pep, I'm. . .I'm sorry."

"Shh, shh," Pepper pushed back his soft hair. "Don't worry about that, you need to rest. You've been through quiet an ordeal."

"No," he protested. He couldn't bear Pepper being so kind to him, he didn't deserve that. She deserved someone much better. "Don't be nice to me. You can't be nice to me. You're not allowed."

"I'm not allowed?" Pepper's lips pinched into a smile. "Now that's the stupidest thing I ever heard."

"Right, because I'm stupid." he snapped.

Pepper shut her mouth close. "Come on, Tony I only meant-"

"I know what you meant, Pep," he said trying to hide his annoyance. "I'm just a bit restless, I hate being here. I feel cooped up. Any chance you can break me out of here?"

Pepper touched his injured wrist. "Well, don't worry you'll be out of here, soon enough."

"Truly, Pep?" his widened his brown eyes. "Do you promise?"

"I swear," Pepper raised her palm. "Scout's honor."

"You were a girl scout?" he asked curiously.

"Um, no, but I did like their cookies a lot." Pepper teased, her smile faded and she asked Tony the question that he had been dreading. "Tony, why did you do it?" she traced her fingers through his injured wrist and legs. "Why did you try to kill yourself?"

"I don't know," Tony whispered hoarsely.

"Yes, you do," Pepper insisted gently. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you, Pep!" he said hoarsely. "You're the one person that I trust the most, how can you doubt that?"

"Then?" she prompted as she faced him, the tears evident in her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have help you, Tony-"

"I don't want your help!" he snarled.

Pepper pulled back, shocked.

"Well, that's too bad because help is the only thing you're getting," Bruce suddenly appeared and it was obvious by his grim tone that he had heard the entire conversation. "Here." he handed him a piece of paper.

"What's this?" he replied annoyed. "Dr. Claire Simmons? Who's Claire, I don't know any Claire."

"She's a psychologist," Pepper said slowly as she looked to Bruce. "Bruce and I talked and we feel that if you weren't able to open to us, maybe you could do it with someone you don't know."

"I'm not going," he ripped the card. "I'm not crazy."

"We didn't say you were crazy," Bruce said tiredly. "We just said you need help. This is going to help you Tony and avoid stupid mistake in the future."

"Did the great Dr. Bruce Banner went to see the great Dr. Simmons when he got posses by a great green monster?"

"Well, no."

"Tony," Pepper said firmly as she clasped his hand. "We only want what's best for you, sweetheart."

"Well, you shouldn't be wasting your time," he glared at them. "Because over my dead body am I going."

"Oh, you are," Bruce replied sarcastically. "Because you are mandatory to attend at least one session before we discharge you. It's up to you."

-End of Chapter Thirteen-


	14. Not so Easy

Chapter Fourteen-Not so Easy

"**It shouldn't matter if you believe in God, in Buddha, or if you're Atheist, they don't make who you are-YOU make who you are."**

_Flashback:_

_Twenty one year old Tony Stark stood in front of his parents grave. He looked at the headstone that looked cold and impersonal without any flowers or decorations. He hadn't been there in months, he had just become CEO of his company._

_He traced his pale fingers about the letters MARIA AND HOWARD STARK._

"_I'll make you proud," he whispered as he finished tracing his fingers along the engraved letters. "I swear."_

_End of Flashback_

Oh. My. God. He hated being here! He hated being in this stupid hospital! With the stupid workers! With Bruce and Pepper looking at him like if he was going to jump out of a building.

"Mr. Stark?" Dr. Simmons's assistant said as she entered the room. "Dr. Simmons is ready to see you."

Tony glared at Bruce. "You swear on your life that I only have to do one session and I can get the hell out of this place?"

Bruce raised his hands in mock surrender. "I swear."

Tony didn't look like he believe him as he went mumbling in. He entered a large, cheerful room. A blond hair woman was waited patiently sitting in one of the chairs. "Hi, Mr. Stark." she offered her hand.

"Uh, hi," he shook it. "You're Dr. Claire Simmons right? Can I call you Claire?"

Claire nodded. "Of course you can."

"All right, Claire, let's make this quick so we both don't have to suffer any more than we should," he sat in one of the green chairs. "By the way call me Tony, I hate my full name."

"All right, Tony," Claire said as she sat in one of the chairs in front of him. "I'm just going to ask you a series of questions before we really start the session."

"Like math questions?" he said confused. "Or are you going to show me one of those black and white picture things?"

"Um, no these are just questions about yourself. To get to know you a little better."

"You can find my whole biography of Wikipedia."

"I want to hear it from you, Mr. Stark," Claire said impatiently as she positioned the pen over the paper. "Where did you grow up?"

"Malibu."

"Any siblings?"

"No."

"Any kids?"

"No."

"Romantic relationships?"

"Yes, Pepper."

"Are you part of any particular religion?" Claire pressed.

Tony for the first time looked uncomfortable. "No, my parents were never the religious time and I just have a feeling that me and God. . .wont exactly get along. I'm atheist always was and always will be. I'm happy with my religious perspective. Or non, actually."

Claire nodded. "That's perfectly all right, Mr. Stark. Now just one more question, and if you want to leave after that you may go."

"All right," he sat back comfortably on the couch. "Bring it on."

"How was the relationship between you and your father, Howard Stark?" Claire asked.

"My father," he spat, his brown eyes growing angry. "Was a cold, heatless man who didn't care about me. It didn't matter what schools I got into, what projects I did. Nothing was ever good for him, before the accident I don't think we hardly even spoke." he said bitterly. "We had a broken relationship."

"I see," Claire said sympathetic. "Now that's a pity. I wished you would see how wrong you are, Tony."

"Are you agreeing with him?" Tony snapped angrily. "Do you also think I'm a spoiled brat? I loved my father despite the way he was, that's why I was always seeking his approval."

"I didn't say you didn't love your father, Anthony," Claire whispered. "I'm saying, you don't love yourself."

Tony felt a lump in his throat. "That's not-"

"You live by what the media says, what the people think of you, what people say even though that man may have changed," Claire continued quietly. "You think that just because you made a few wrong turns in life, you don't' deserve to love or to feel love. And that's not true, you are lovable, Tony."

Tears stung, Tony's eyes and he clutched the leather chair. He didn't want to cry, he didn't know if he was feeling sentimental because he was on painkillers or because Dr. Simmons was actually hitting a nerve point. Something he didn't want to think, let alone talk about in years. He pointed to the box of Kleenex. "Can I-?"

Claire handed him the box. "Of course," she said. "I know you are only required one session, Tony and I'm not going to force you to take more. I just want to let you know that if you ever need to talk, I will always be here."

Tony looked at the doctor and was too ashamed to meet her eyes. "I think. . I think I would like to come back, soon."

Natasha had been released from the hospital, Bruce hadn't had wanted to release her. He had been furious when he had found out what Natasha had been up too and Fury as well and they wanted to keep her in quarantine until her health improve, but Clint had managed to convince them, that he could take care of her.

"Can you guess what's this is?" Clint raised a spoon covered in sauce to Natasha's nose.

Natasha had been living with simple foods like jell-o and crackers and her stomach grumbled when Clint asked her that.

"I think it's Alfredo sauce," Natasha pushed his hands away. "Are you making pasta?"

"I think you're a mind reader," Clint teased.

"I didn't even know you knew how to cook!" she exclaimed. She dipped her finger into the sauce and slowly put in in her mouth. "Hmm, not bad Barton. Not bad at all. Good even."

-End of Chapter Fourteen-


	15. You Don't Have To Be Perfect

Chapter Fifteen-You Don't Have To Be Perfect

"**Sure you can change and be like everybody else, and keep everyone else happy. . .but what about you? Don't you deserve to be happy too?"**

_Flashback:_

"_Why didn't you kill me?"_

_Clint raises his head to the beautiful assassin he had just refused to kill. They are sitting on the roof and she refuses to face him. "What?"_

"_Why didn't you kill me?"_

"_Because," Clint took a deep breath. "From afar you looked like the perfect assassin, so graceful and calculated and heartless. But could tell just by looking at your eyes that you looked lost and lonely. I wanted to know why you were so sad and I wanted to see you smile."_

_-End of Flashback-_

THREE YEARS LATER

"I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride," Tony Stark pulled up the veil of his beloved bride-Pepper Stark-Potts. "Mrs. Stark."

"Oh, Tony," she grinned as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you."

"Love, you too Pep,"

They had, had a small ceremony at City Hall with a small receptions afterwards with only the Avengers, a few close friends, and of course Dr. Simmons.

After the first session, Tony had attended weekly sessions and even though he sometimes hated to be told the truth in the end he appreciated it, it helped him become a better person. And he like Dr. Simons, she was quick, kind, and as painless as possible.

"Stark, congratulations," Bruce patted him on the back. The smile radiant on his face. He was glad that Tony had become better and he had even mature a little thanks to Dr. Simmons.

"Thanks for coming, buddy, you too Cap." he said to Captain America who was standing awkwardly waiting to congratulate them.

"My pleasure," Steve said. He kissed Pepper's hand. "You look lovely, Mrs. Stark."

Pepper giggled. "Thanks, Steve."

After they accepted their congratulations, Tony pulled Pepper aside. "You know I'm eternally grateful that you've been by my side all these years."

"Oh, is that why you gave me a ring?" Pepper teased. "You know I will always stay by your side, Tony."

"Not many woman would, especially with complete wreck like myself," he said nervously.

"You're not a wreck, Tony," she scolded him as she patted his cheek. "You're my Tony. And I love you just the way you are. You don't need to change."

"Pep," he whispered. "That might be the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me."

The weather in Central Park was enjoyable and there wasn't a lot of people just like Natasha liked it. "I love this ice cream!" she said as she licked the double scoped ice cream cone. She tied her hair in a low ponytail.

"You say that with every ice cream you buy, " Clint teased her as he licked his own chocolate ice cream. "Hey, Nat I've been meaning to tell you, don't kick me or anything-but I know you're better and stuff and that you're no longer anorexic and bulimic and now eat like a baby horse-" Natasha punched him playfully on the arm. "But shouldn't you see a psychologist? It helped Tony, of all people and it might help you soft of your feeling about what happened in Russia and the Red Room and all that."

"No," Natasha said after a while. "I'm way stronger than that and no psychologist can understand what I went through. They can TRY, they've study that, but they don't really know." she smiled at him. "I kind of want to figure it out for myself first."

**THE END!**

This is the end of Perfect Porcelain Dolls, thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, favorite, and followed this story. I hope you enjoyed this ending, the plot, and the quotes! Thank you!


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